


Habits of Being

by corellians_only



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Homecoming, Kissing, gender neutral reader, smidgen of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:49:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corellians_only/pseuds/corellians_only
Summary: the things he misses when he's gone are nothing compared to the way he knows you.
Relationships: Santiago "Pope" Garcia/Reader
Kudos: 6





	Habits of Being

The first thing he sees when he comes home — beyond the scribbled to-do list taped to the wall in the foyer, the one that makes him roll his eyes in fond familiarity of your habits — is you.  
You’re curled into the couch, fingers clutching a blanket to your chest. It must be another habit of yours, Santi realizes. One he doesn’t see because it’s only when he’s gone. How many other bits of your being does he miss in the camouflage of ambition, wrapped in the protective fog of secrecy?

Dark eyes scan the room — a habit of his own, one equally as honed as the way you grasp at shadows of comfort. You’ve been here a while: there’s a glass of water on the coffee table, and empty bowl of something, he’s not sure of what. One more thing he misses about you; misses both your presence and your person when he is gone like this.

So he leaves everything behind, not even halting to take off the heavy boots, or the bulletproof vest, and inches towards you — you and that ridiculous pink blanket. Legs are folded up near your chest, and the part of his brain that’s been trained to expertly assess body language tells him that it’s because you’re trying to make yourself small and safe.

Anger is never far away from Santi. He carries it with him, because there is so much to be angry about. But this is the first time he has been angry with himself in a long time; not since the time he came home with one too many new scars. But that was ages ago. _You have done this,_ the voice sneers. _You have done this to them. ___

__But the sight of you — the sight of you curled in on yourself for want of him — soothes the bitter heft of his soul, at least for the moment._ _

__Santi crouches beside you. It’s movement he uses so often in his profession that now bleeds into the space that ought to be reserved for just the two of you. He tries to temper it; he tries to ignore the boots on his feet and the fatigues on his back and the burden of the kevlar vest pressed tightly to his chest by focusing on you instead, soothing the hairs that have fallen lose from your bun in the night. Warm lips grant you kisses along your hairline, along your jaw, along your cheekbones, building in fervent urgency until you finally stir, looking up at him with wild, bleary eyes._ _

__“Santi,” you breathe, reaching up to cup his jaw. “You’re — you’re home.”_ _

__He gives you a small smile and exhales. “That’s right, _mi amor._ ” Grabbing one of your hands, he presses a kiss to the palm. “I missed you, baby.”_ _

__“Clearly,” you tease, taking in the roughness of his ensemble, eyes lingering on the form-fitting vest. “You usually shower, you know. Couldn’t wait?”_ _

__He’s migrated back to kissing your face, now, dotting kisses on your eyelids, nose, forehead. “Course not,” Santi responds, breath hot against your cheek. “Missed you too much.” His words, his body towering over yours, the sight of him in those clothes, so strong and secure — it all floods over you, washing you in a tide of pressing need._ _

__“Yeah?” you say, tugging on the vest so that he’s forced on top of you, joining you on the couch, his mouth inches away from yours. “Why don’t you show me how much, baby?”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> i don't write santi often, but I do, I'm soft for him. I'm over on tumblr at filthybookworm if you want to say hi!


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